A Little Surprise for the Boss (Mills & Boon Desire) (8 page)

Buck trailed a few steps behind her. If she never spoke to him again, he wouldn’t blame her. But between here and Porter Hollow they had more than a two-hour drive ahead of them. Maybe he could at least get her to talk. Even railing at him, which he deserved, would be better for them both than this stony silence.

He needed to hear her words as much as she needed to say them.

* * *

The tan SUV with the Bucket List logo on the door was parked near the hotel’s back entrance, its key under the mat where Kirby, the jet steward, had left it. Without a word, Terri climbed into the passenger seat, fastened her seat belt and opened one of the chilled water bottles Kirby had left in the console. She sipped the water in silence as Buck climbed into the driver’s seat, buckled up and started the engine.

Twenty minutes later they’d left the park behind and were headed up Highway 89, which would take them north through the Navajo reservation to Page, across the bridge at Glen Canyon and from there over the Utah border to Porter Hollow. In the west, the sky above the desert blazed with a fiery sunset. By the time they got home it would be dark.

Buck stole a glance at Terri’s stubborn profile. She was gazing out the side window, still not speaking. The two of them had had their ups and downs over the past ten years, but never a week as tumultuous as this one. Whatever came of it, good or bad, Buck sensed that their relationship would never be the same as before.

The silence between them was like rising water, threatening to fill the breathing space and drown them both. Unable to stand it any longer, Buck spoke.

“Are you all right, Terri?”

“That depends on your definition of
all right
.” She spoke without turning to look at him. “The one thing I could have done for my grandma was be there for her. I couldn’t even manage that because I was
working
—trying to keep you and your billionaire clients happy.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Buck knew his reply was lame, but it was all he could offer.

“How did she die?” Terri asked. “Did Bob tell you? Was she in the hospital? In her chair?”

“I don’t think Bob knew. He only told me she’d passed away.”

She exhaled, slumping in the seat. Outside, the darkness was closing around them. “Well, I guess I’ll find out when I get home. And I guess I’ll have a funeral service to plan. I hope you won’t mind giving me a couple of days off.”

“Take all the time you need,” Buck said. “In fact, I want to pay for your grandmother’s funeral. I know you’ve been paying for her care at Canyon Shadows. You can’t have a lot of cash to spare.”

There was a long pause before she spoke. “Why would you do that?” she demanded. “Do you think you owe me?”

Buck caught the cold anger in her voice. “It’s my fault you missed being there for her,” he said. “I’d like to make amends if I can.”

“With
money
?” She jerked around to face him. “This isn’t about money, Buck. It’s about love and family duty. I will pay for my grandmother’s funeral, and I don’t want a nickel from you!”

Buck held his tongue, hoping she was finished. Maybe it had been crass, offering to pay for the funeral. But damn it, he’d meant well. Couldn’t she give him credit for that?

“You think money’s the answer to everything, don’t you?” The words spilled out of her like water through a broken dam. “Even with Quinn—you’re too busy to spend time with her, so you whip out your credit card and buy her whatever she wants, as if that makes everything all right. As for me—you pay me the salary I earn. That’s enough—all I expect. I don’t need your charity for the funeral or anything else.” She finished off her water and crushed the thin plastic bottle between her hands. “As long as we’re on the subject, what was it that prompted you to put sixteen hundred dollars’ worth of new tires on my Jeep? Was that some kind of misplaced guilt, too? For what?”

Buck felt the sting. She was cutting too close to a nerve. But he was a captive audience. He couldn’t just stop the vehicle and walk away without answering.

“All right,” he said. “Since you asked, I might as well tell you. When we were in Iraq, I promised Steve that if anything happened to him, I’d look after you. Lately I’ve realized that apart from giving you a job, I haven’t done much to live up to that promise. So when you needed new tires, I wanted to help. That’s all.”

It wasn’t all. Not by a long shot. But Terri was upset enough. For now it was as much as she could handle.

But she kept pushing him, getting under his skin. “I was in my teens when you and Steve enlisted. I’m a grown woman now. Damn it, Buck, I don’t need looking after, especially when you do it all out of guilt!”

“Fine. Message received loud and clear.”

Jaw set, hands gripping the wheel, Buck could feel his temper boiling over. The river run had been a lousy waste of time. He was filthy, unshaven, hungry and exhausted, and now this fool woman had not only rejected his well-meant offer of help, but she’d dismissed his motive as guilt.

What the hell, she was partially right. But that didn’t mean he had to take being treated like the bad guy—not when she wasn’t exactly Little Miss Innocent herself.

The words came out before he could think to stop them.

“As long as we’re asking questions, tell me what the devil you were doing in my bed the morning I was sick. I remember it being a lot of fun, but not much else.”

As soon as Buck heard her gasp he knew he’d made a serious mistake. He willed himself to focus his eyes on the road. There could be no taking back what he’d just said. All he could do was brazen it out and deal with the consequences.

“How dare you?” she sputtered.

“
How
dare I?
Stop acting like a character out of some damned Jane Austen novel. I was half-drugged out of my mind, and you took advantage of me.”

Another gasp. “
I
took advantage? I leaned over the bed to make sure you were all right. You grabbed my hand and put it on your…never mind. I’ve been trying to make myself believe it never happened. A gentleman would never have brought it up.”

“You’ve known me most of your life. Have I ever claimed to be a gentleman? It happened, Terri, and I’m sick of pretending it didn’t.”

“Is that why you bought the tires for my Jeep? Because I slept with you?”

“Lord, no. I can’t believe you’d think that.”

Terri didn’t reply. When he risked a glance at her, she was staring out the front window, her jaw stubbornly set. Should he apologize? But no, she was past listening. His words would most likely set off another tirade. Besides, he was glad to have it out in the open, so he didn’t have to ignore what had happened between them anymore.

But right or wrong, he’d turned a dangerous corner with Terri. Their once-comfortable relationship would never be the same. And now, especially with her grandmother gone, she’d probably be eager to leave Porter Hollow—and him.

He’d been in denial about her leaving, Buck realized. Maybe he still was. Either way, he wasn’t ready to deal with losing her.

* * *

Terri watched the headlights sweep past the broken yellow lines on the highway. Here and there, in the darkness, specks of light from Navajo homes glowed like distant stars. A big double-trailer truck, roaring past in the southbound lane, left the air tinged with diesel fumes.

She willed herself not to think. Her mind was too tired to process all that had happened and come to any kind of intelligent conclusion. She knew only that the course of her life had just taken a drastic turn. She’d always counted on her grandmother, her job and Buck to provide her with stability. Now it was as if she was standing on a crumbling precipice, about to tumble into thin air.

Buck had turned on the radio, but most of the stations on the dial were nothing but static. Only an annoying call-in talk show came through clearly. After a few minutes Buck turned it off. The silence was even more oppressive than before, but it was as if they both knew talking would only do more damage. This was the first time in Terri’s memory that she and Buck had nothing to say to each other.

Ahead, she could see the bright lights of Page and the Glen Canyon Dam. Buck slowed for the town. “I could use some coffee. Want something?”

At least he was talking. “No thanks,” Terri said. “I think I’ll just crawl into the back and try to sleep. If I’m still out when we get back to Porter Hollow, let me off at the hotel. My Jeep and my purse should be there.”

“Fine.” That was all he said. Terri waited till the SUV pulled up to a drive-through window. Then she crawled over the console and onto the backseat. Somebody had left a thin fleece blanket there. Curling up in it, she closed her eyes. She was too agitated to sleep, she told herself. But at least if she pretended to, she and Buck wouldn’t have to worry about talking—or not talking.

The SUV pulled out of the drive-through and headed back to the highway. For all her frayed nerves, Terri was exhausted. It took only minutes for the purr of the engine and the gentle vibration beneath her body to lull her into dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“W
ake up, Terri. We’re here.”

Roused by Buck’s voice, Terri pushed herself upright in the backseat. Through the side windows of the SUV, she could see the familiar lights that marked the back entrance to the hotel. As she blinked herself awake, the turmoil of the past few hours refocused in her mind. No, it hadn’t been a bad dream. Her beloved grandma was gone, and Buck had finally brought up the morning they’d had sex.

Whether she was ready or not, it was time to face reality.

“Your Jeep’s across the parking lot,” he said. “Want me to stay until you get your keys and make sure the engine starts?”

She untangled herself from the blanket, opened the back door of the SUV and stumbled out on unsteady legs. “Don’t worry about it. You need to get home. I’ll be fine.” She closed the door hard, maybe too hard.

He rolled down the window. “I’ll swing back this way after I’ve picked up the Hummer. If you need any help, wave.”

“I said I’ll be fine. I don’t need you to look after me.” She turned away and strode into the hotel. The hour was early, not yet nine o’clock. If the Jeep wouldn’t start, there were other people she could ask for help.

The concierge had her purse, tucked into a drawer. “That must’ve been some trip,” the woman said, looking her up and down.

Terri faked a grin. “You can’t imagine. I’ll tell you about it later. Thanks for keeping an eye on this.” She took her purse and left the way she’d come in. Buck was gone, but her Jeep started on the first try. With a sigh of relief, she pulled out of the parking lot. All she really felt like doing was going home, stripping down for a long, hot, soapy shower and crawling into bed. But some things couldn’t wait.

She would call Canyon Shadows, let them know she was back and find out everything she could about her grandmother. If they needed her to stop by in person or go to the mortuary right away, she’d drive straight there. The way she looked wasn’t important.

Terri pulled the Jeep to the curb, fished in her purse and found her cell phone. She’d forgotten to turn it off before handing over her purse, and after being left on for three days without a charge, the battery was dead. With an impatient mutter, she stuffed the phone back in her purse. Never mind, she’d just go straight on to Canyon Shadows and begin the sad business of laying her grandmother to rest.

Starting the Jeep again, Terri pulled into the evening traffic. Harriet Cooper had been ready to go—no question of that. But she’d deserved better than to die alone or among cold-eyed strangers. For the rest of her life Terri would regret that she hadn’t been there for the woman who’d given her so much.

* * *

Buck turned onto the road that wound up the canyon to his home. He thought about calling the house again, to let Quinn and Mrs. Calloway know he was coming. But it hardly seemed worth the trouble when he’d be there in a few minutes.

Earlier, no one had answered his call. But that had been almost three hours ago. If they’d gone out for dinner, by now they should be home. He could just walk in and surprise his daughter. Maybe, once he’d showered and changed, he could even take her out for ice cream and catch up.

Terri’s Jeep had been gone when he’d driven back through the parking lot. She’d been anxious to get away from him. For that he could hardly blame her. Tonight the trust they’d built over the years had shattered. Healing, if even possible, would be long and painful, but Buck wasn’t ready to give up. For now he would allow her some space, let her get through the process of grieving for her grandmother. Maybe after that he’d have a chance of winning her back.

Whatever it took, if there was any way to keep her from leaving, he had to try.

Rounding the last curve in the road, he could see his house, every window lit. Apprehension trailed a cold finger up his spine. The feeling that something was wrong became a certainty as he drove through the open gate and saw the county sheriff’s brown Toyota Land Cruiser parked next to the house.

Heart pounding, Buck braked the Hummer, sprang to the ground and raced up the porch steps. Had there been a break-in? Was Quinn all right?

Mrs. Calloway met him at the door. Her face was pale, her eyes bloodshot.

“What is it?” he asked, sick with dread.

“It’s Quinn. She’s gone missing.”

Buck forced himself to speak past the shock. “What happened?”

“After lunch she said she was going to her room to play games on her computer. I checked on her at two. She wasn’t there.”

“There’s no sign of her in the house and no evidence of a struggle.” The sheriff, a bear of a man whose belly strained the buttons on his uniform, lumbered down the stairs to face Buck. “I’d say it looks more like a runaway than a kidnapping.”

“But as my daughter, she’d be a target for kidnappers. Have you issued an Amber Alert?” Buck demanded.

The sheriff shook his head. “That’s a pretty drastic measure. I don’t want to do that and then find out she just wandered off.”

Buck clenched his jaw, biting back an angry outburst. It wouldn’t help to antagonize the man. He tried to pull himself together, forcing himself to think logically. “Did she take anything? Any food? Any clothes?” he asked.

Mrs. Calloway shook her head. “No food. I’m not sure about anything else. There’s plenty of clothes left in her closet. I wouldn’t know if something was missing.” Her eyes welled with tears. “Oh, Lord, Mr. Morgan, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I watched that girl like a hawk!”

“It wasn’t your fault. Just help us find her. Think—what did she do? What did she say before you missed her?”

“She said she was bored. But she was always saying that.”

“What about the dog?” Buck asked the sheriff.

“The dog’s here. He’s fine.”

“And you didn’t hear him barking, Mrs. Calloway?”

“No. Didn’t hear a thing all afternoon—and I was wide-awake, just watching TV.”

“For now I have to assume the girl left on her own,” the sheriff said. “Maybe she just went to a friend’s house. Maybe you should try calling around.”

Buck’s patience was wearing thin. Why was everybody standing around talking when his little girl could be in danger? “She doesn’t have friends here,” he said. “She just came for the summer.”

“What about somebody she might’ve met online? Like a boy? Or even somebody
pretending
to be a boy?” The implication was clear.

Buck’s control snapped. “Good Lord, she’s nine years old! She’s not into boys yet. But if she’s out there wandering around alone, anything could’ve happened to her! Why are we wasting time? We need to get moving and find her!”

“We’re doing all we can, Mr. Morgan.” The sheriff sounded like a bad imitation of a detective on a TV crime show. “I’ve put out an alert and given her description to my deputies. They’re all watching for her. The best thing for now is sit tight and stay calm.”

It was all Buck could do to keep from punching the man. “Hell, I’ve got a whole security team of ex-cops and ex-military at the resort. I’m calling them now to form a search party.”

Buck stepped to one side and dialed Ed Clarkson, his chief of security. Clarkson, who’d once run the missing persons bureau in Tucson, promised to put every available man and woman on the search. “Most of us know your daughter, so we’ll know who to look for,” he said. “I’ll get right on this.”

“There’s a school photo of Quinn in my office. You’ve got a key to the place. Make some copies and hand them out. And thanks, Ed.” Buck paused to collect his thoughts. “I’ll check her computer and call you if I find anything you need to know. Then I’ll take the dog and check the canyon trails. She could’ve gone hiking and gotten lost or hurt.”

“Good idea. I’ll be in touch. Don’t worry, Buck, we’ll find her.”

Buck ended the call, then scrolled down to Terri’s number. Terri was dealing with a lot right now. But he had to bring her into this. She loved Quinn and would be concerned about her. She might even have some idea where the girl would have gone.

He tried the number. Nothing. If Terri had left her phone on during the river run, it made sense that the battery would be dead. Feeling strangely alone without her support, Buck slipped the phone back in his pocket. He’d needed Terri—needed to hear her voice, needed to share his fears with her and know she was there for him. Now all he could do was try her again later, after she’d had time to charge her phone. Right now he needed to check Quinn’s computer.

Ignoring the scowl on the sheriff’s face, he hurried up the stairs and down the hall to Quinn’s bedroom. The sight of her ruffled bedcover and scattered cushions, her precious stuffed animals, and her fuzzy slippers tossed on the rug triggered an ache in his throat.

Pushing the emotion aside, he found Quinn’s laptop on her desk and switched it on. Buck had insisted on knowing her password—thank heaven for that. He had no trouble getting into her texts and email.

He could’ve saved himself the trouble. Almost all of the messages and texts involved her girlfriends in Sedona. It was the usual schoolgirl chatter—nothing alarming, nothing to indicate that she’d met anyone new or was planning to go anywhere. Even her complaints about boredom and being monitored by Mrs. Calloway came as no surprise. Buck had known how she felt. The only message that caught his eye was a recent one to her mother, sent yesterday.

Hi, Mom. Daddy’s gone again, this time on the river, for days. He didn’t even say goodbye. He just called Mrs. C. and told her he had to go on a river run. Terri took me shopping last week, but Daddy was too busy to even look at what we bought. At least in Sedona I have my friends. I feel like a prisoner. I hate it here.

The words ripped into Buck’s heart. He loved his daughter, and he’d had good intentions about spending time with her while she was in town. But good intentions weren’t enough for a little girl who needed his time and affection. If anything had happened to Quinn, he’d have only himself to blame.

Lord, what was he going to tell Diane? Their marriage might have been a disaster, but she was a decent mother. If she knew her daughter was missing she’d be out of her mind with worry.

He would spare his ex-wife until he knew more, Buck resolved. Meanwhile, he’d learned all he could from Quinn’s computer. It was time to get the dog and a flashlight and search the canyon. Picking up a discarded sock off the floor, he kept it to give the dog her scent. Murphy was no trained bloodhound, but he would recognize that scent as Quinn’s, and he was protective of the girl. He might at least be able to hear her if she was in trouble.

Buck had never been a praying man, but as he passed the landing to go downstairs, he paused long enough to say a silent prayer for his daughter’s safety. Wherever she’d gone, he vowed, he would find her.

* * *

Terri had spent half an hour at Canyon Shadows talking to the director. Her grandmother had passed away quietly, alone in her armchair with the TV blaring an old Lawrence Welk broadcast. One of the aides had discovered her when she’d gone in to bring dinner.

“There was nothing you could have done, dear.” The director was an athletic fiftyish woman with glasses and dyed red hair that clashed with her purple pantsuit. “Nothing any of us could have done. It was her time. From the looks of the dear lady, I’d say she didn’t suffer. We called the mortuary over in Hurricane, the one listed on the form you filled out. They’ve got her in their morgue, waiting for you to come make the arrangements.” Her sharp gaze took in Terri’s bloodshot eyes, matted hair and muddy clothes. “I’m sure that can wait till morning, dear. You look exhausted. Go home and get some rest.”

Terri shook her head. “I’d rather get things settled now. Will somebody be there at this hour?”

“If you like, I can call them and find out.” She reached for the phone.

An hour later, Terri was on her way back home. The funeral director had met her at the mortuary where she’d chosen a plain casket, arranged for a simple graveside service and paid with her credit card. The sad errand could have waited till tomorrow, but she hadn’t wanted to leave it undone any longer. And if Buck decided to be “helpful,” he’d be told that everything had been taken care of. She didn’t need his guilt-driven charity.

Coming back into town, she turned off the main road and onto the narrow lane that led to her grandmother’s neat little clapboard house—her house now, she supposed. It would make sense to sell it—the home wasn’t worth much but it sat on an acre of choice land, prime for development.

Never mind, she could think about that later. Right now she was so tired she could barely hold her head up. All she wanted was to shower and pull on clean sweats, microwave the leftover lasagna in the fridge, open a beer and put her feet up.

Looking down the lane toward the house, Terri saw something that made her heart lurch. There were lights on inside, glowing through the kitchen and living room windows.

Had she forgotten to turn the lights off four days ago when she’d left to drive the truck to Lee’s Ferry? It was possible, she conceded. It had been early, still dark outside, when she’d locked the house. And she’d been preoccupied, thinking about Buck. Still, it wasn’t like her to go away and leave lights burning. She had to assume that someone had broken into the house—and that they could still be inside.

A half block from the house, she stopped the Jeep and turned off the headlights. With a dead phone, she couldn’t call 911. She could always drive into town and get help. But she’d feel pretty silly if it turned out she’d left the lights on herself. She was going to need a closer look.

Taking care not to make a sound, she climbed out of the Jeep. There was a tire iron in the back. It wasn’t a gun, but if she ran into trouble it would be better than no weapon at all.

She kept to the shadows as she neared the house. Nothing inside was worth stealing—the TV and her computer were old, her jewelry little more than odds and ends. But some homeless person, needing food and shelter, could have broken in. Gripping the tire iron, she tiptoed to the kitchen window and peered over the sill.

The light above the stove was on. There was no one in the room, but someone had definitely been here. A carton of milk, a bowl with a spoon in it and a box of cereal sat on the kitchen table. The cereal was a sugary brand that Terri didn’t like. She’d bought it last year when Quinn slept over and hadn’t touched it since.